eldritchcryptiddeer

[eldritchcryptiddeer]

I have created a writing server - I hope to encourage a community that can thrive and write together. One that can lend a hand when needed and motivate you to keep going!

[eldritchcryptiddeer]

Hello! I once again want to offer up writing commissions!

- $10 per 1000 words if it’s nsfw

- $5 per 1000 words if it’s sfw

Please help me out here 💜

[eldritchcryptiddeer]

Hi all!!

If you have been liking my writing i would like to present you with my commission prices. Of course i will keep writing on my own as i can but for requests-

$5 for 1000 words (SFW)

$10 for 1000 words (NSFW)

[eldritchcryptiddeer]

TW: sex

“A-Alastor!” Salem cries out, her hands wrapped tightly around the antlers sticking out of the demons head. Her cunt pressed tightly against his lips. His sharp teeth nipping and pulling blood from soft flesh as his tongue darts deep into her.

His long tongue makes its way from her depths to lap at her clit, sucking it into his mouth, eyes staring up at the body before him. Every curve and soft plump spot enticing him to work her harder, to make her flesh jiggle as he takes her, devours her over and over again. Blood, spit, and cum glistens on his lips and her inner thighs as she bucks up into him.

The grip on Alastor’s antlers tightens, a moan vibrating through him and filling her. She writhes beneath him, his claws digging into her ass as he continues to make her his meal.

“Quelle bonne petite biche, so desperate to cum on my face” he mumbles, adding a finger to her hole while his tongue drags itself over every little spot, grinding down into her cunt and coming back up dripping. He raises his head, her body going with as she clings to his antlers.

“Fuck Alastor please-“ she whines, eyes closed and lips parted as she pants out her pleas. He guides her hips down, forcing them to meet his as he pushes into her. The delicious sound of flesh tearing as he hold her steady, forcing every inch up into her too small pussy, stretching her until shes yelping and clawing like a dog at him.

His control snaps when she digs her own nails into the base of the antlers, forcing her up and down like a toy, her screams echoing around the room fall silent as static picks up. Close, so close- he pulls back, leaving just the tip in before slamming her down onto his lap again, his name falling from her lips once more as he empties himself into her.

“Bonne petite biche, le mien, ma salope” he whispers, stroking her shaking body, calming her as she comes down.

[eldritchcryptiddeer]

If I have done this right this is my only fans- yall have read my writing so you know I’m a little unconventional in terms of play~

[eldritchcryptiddeer]

It’s Alastor bottom week so I’ve decided to finally cave and right some radioapple!

[eldritchcryptiddeer]

Part 8:

My hands tremble as I pour a glass of whiskey; my body wants her, craves her, like a drug. Nothing I try keeps my mind from wandering back to her. The way her hair falls over her shoulders, shrouds her ears, or the way her brown eyes seem to see through me on the few occasions she’s looked, truly looked. Every touch from her is electrifying, sending waves of gnawing hunger through my body.

Is this what I’ve become? Caving into the needs of flesh that I’ve so easily waved off before. Yet her name, Salem, coats my tongue, works into my mouth as I push it forth from my lips. Not even the whiskey dulls the sensation of her on my tongue. Weeks have passed and I can still taste her as if I have just sunk my teeth into her, nothing tastes as divine as her, nothing measures up to her. I wonder how the rest of her tastes.

My tongue darts across my teeth, sucking on each one as if to pull her taste from them. Nothing lingers like a memory you wish to forget, or not forget. Do I want to forget?

The whiskey hits me again, a soft sting against, now, teeth pierced lips and tongue. Not too much, do not drink too much again. Yet another glass is full and drained within moments. How many have I had? The bottle is empty, no, there’s two empty bottles. I waiver in my attempt to make it across the floor to my bed, foot hitting another bottle that crashes into two more. Five empty bottles, once again I have lost control and it is her fault.

No- no do not say that, you sound like him. The venom in my thoughts runs through my veins, stretches my nails, my antlers hit the wall leaving deep grooves in the repeatedly wounded wall, lights flicker, green devouring the space as I direct my anger at - nothing. There’s nothing to pour it into, to hurt, except myself.

~

The next morning I am even more of a wreck than I was the last time, my head is a whirlwind of drums and thoughts colliding into a toiling storm. I cannot seem to even gather them enough to speak coherently and find that I have missed not only breakfast, but lunch as well. The clock in my room chimes four PM and my claws find the sheets, ripping them apart further.

The night had brought nothing but nightmares; my father spitting at me that I am no better, my mother crying from pain and the guilt of having raised a monster, and Salems cold eyes meeting mine- demanding answers for questions I don’t have. Hatred taints her smile, driving a knife between my ribs, twisting until it drives into my even colder heart. Even now, awake and semi aware, the pain is present.

Creaking reverberates around the room as I stand, eyes flicking to the new gashes on my walls, to the spots of my blood on the floor, moss creeping along wooden floorboards, flower petals drifting over cracks in the rooms structure that mimic the cracks in my life. I have created a sanctuary of painful reminders so that I may endure the agony of my existence over and over.

~

Dinner came with frequent stares and soft whispers, concern on faces of people I don’t need the pity of, except her. Salem refuses to meet my eyes, her lips curving every so slightly at the edges. What goes on behind those eyes? Behind the vacant stare and polite smile. She’s far from stupid, she might even be brilliant if I am reading her right. There’s a coyness, a sense of pride at how she frustrates me, as if she knows just how cruel she is to me.

Lost in thought I almost miss it, the slight flicker of her eyes to mine but I don’t. Our eyes meet for a split second and every thought in my brain has dissipated. Those eyes, oh how they bare into me with such a coldness. I want their warmth, her affection, for her to look at me like she looks at them. Like she did for just a minute in my room.

Nails bite into my thigh beneath the table, placating some of my thoughts of demise. Though, the demise of her or me I am not certain. As if sensing my internal frustration her smile widens, lips curved up in a frightening manner. Sharp and hungry, like she could smell the anger, fear, and unknown on me.

A snarl sits on my lips, I want to tear her apart to put her together again. I want to know every inch of her- every smell and how it feels to be touched by her. My eyes stay pinned to that smile, that smile that only seems to grow as she once more brings those eyes to mine. And there, beneath the vacant cold, I see her hunger.

[eldritchcryptiddeer]

Part 7:

TW- mentions of sex, masturbation

Dinner that night was less than pleasant, it was less than cordial even. Everyone but Charlie seemed displeased that I was present. Scowls painted every face minus the bright and smiling princess. Salem seemed genuinely disheartened, she had been sitting between Husk and Angel, they were the ones that had been laughing earlier, but now they sat silent, miserable even.

“It’s impolite to ignore” my voice is low, not carrying that usual sense of pride. The smile never fails but it’s clearly tight, not a true one. For the first time since being in Hell I find myself attempting to hide my own discomfort. Salem looks at me, genuinely truly looks at me, and a moment of understanding passes between us. Could this be a start? But then she’s gone again, eyes jaded and cast back down to the half eaten plate of food.

I just want, no need, her to talk to me. To do more than share a dance in private with no words shared. Perhaps I shouldn’t have told her to not speak of it, maybe then she would have spoken to me after and we wouldn’t have to do this ridiculous dance.

She said she despises you

Dropping my fork I stand, my chair making an awful screech across the wooden floor. Charlie looks up, startled, worry on her perfect features. Her perfect girlfriend has a deepening scowl, Husk disappearing into his perfect drunken mess, Angel reaching for her, her, perfect her. Again she won’t even look at me, why won’t she look at me?

Exiting quickly I can hear a flurry of movement behind me but I find myself not caring. The shadows swirl, drinking in the color of the lobby and leaving it black and gray, before swallowing me whole. Gone a week and the only person who cares is the damn princess!

I appear in my room, still untouched from my outburst months ago, the petals of the flowers are scattered on the floor and table while the stems lay bare in an empty vase, and it smells unused, uncared for. A dry laugh leaves my lips, turning into a maniacal laugh as I slide down my bedroom door, hands buried in my pristine hair. Tugging and tugging until I pull handfuls of it from my scalp with a horrific sound. The pain soothes my mind a little but not enough, the sense of control I had had is slipping from me, she pulled it out from under me.

There’s a knocking noise, a soft tapping on my door, as if the person asking for entry is not certain they want to be allowed in. I should tell them to leave but instead I cover the small spots of missing hair and wave my hand, my room righting itself, the flowers the only thing left because I cannot bare to see them go yet.

~

She stands behind the door, our eyes never meeting once I’ve opened it. Why had she come? Why bother with me when she had spent almost the first year here ignoring me? And then hating me.

“Alastor” her voice is quiet, and then she’s pushing into my room, closing and locking the door behind her “that look, that tone” her back rests against the door, chest rising and falling quickly, honeysuckle seeping into every pore of my body as she speaks.

“I have no idea what you are talking about” liar- why lie? Why not tell her? She already knows, small and troubling but not dumb. Far from dumb.

“Look I know I hate you, and you have some sick want from me, but I have this thing- no matter how much I despise someone if I know they’re struggling I have to make sure they’ll be ok” her voice seems to grow softer, dare I say even warmer, as she speaks “I’ve just…I’ve seen that look”

My eyes stay trained on her, curious but refusing to give away what I truly feel. About her, about myself, about anything that can be used against me.

“We can even pretend, that I never showed up here afterwards but….look you are unfortunately important to the hotel, to Charlie” I note her want to say something else and how she holds it back “so just tell me you will be ok”

“I am perfectly capable of handling my own needs” she glances up as I speak, narrowing her eyes and scoffing.

“Gods you sound like I do, now I understand why it is so fucking infuriating” despite her calm enough demeanor the shadows lap at her feet, seeking to feed off the anger I can tell is brewing beneath her skin. She doesn’t want to be here.

There’s this standoff, a moment of us just watching each other. I step forward, her body tensing but I have to touch her, feel her beneath my fingers. Brushing my claws against her cheek I can sense her urge to run, see how her hand inches towards the locked door handle.

“Please…” I plead with her to let me feel for just a moment, to enjoy touch I hadn’t felt beyond the two times we danced together, and those had felt like dreams. She steadies herself, still ready to sprint from me should she see the need to but she doesn’t move from my hand. I trail from her cheek to her jaw, brush my thumb over her lips, and bring my palm to rest against her throat as her eyes turn to black. There’s the perfect prey I keep seeing.

“What do you want Alastor?” Her voice shakes and I want to taste her. Devour her. Even with a soul owned by another she must taste divine, borderline angelic. I know she can see the hunger scrawled across my face, the way my lips bare my teeth as I bring myself closer, bending at the waist to meet her short form. She trembles beneath me but there’s nowhere to go. She could try to open the door and flee but despite her hand resting on the handle she doesn’t move. Not even as my teeth sink into her shoulder, or as my claws grasp at her side and hip to drag her body further into my mouth. Blood spills down her chest yet she doesn’t cry, she doesn’t scream or try to break away, just leans her head back and accepts what I assume she believes is the end.

“Darling?” She looks startled, her hand moving from the door to the wound I’ve left, coating her fingers. Her eyes seem to fade in and out of focus, thinking, before pushing me away and straightening herself out.

“That was…uncalled for” something unknown laces her voice, a tremble of not fear but excitement beneath even that. She brings her fingers to her mouth, licking them clean, a feeling building that I’ve rarely experienced. A feral need and I usher her from the room, afraid of what I might force from her if I don’t.

“Alastor?” She sounds confused as I slam the door. A soft huff and muttering of curses trails away, indicating her departure.

She talked to me, she let me touch her, bite her, I could even imagine she enjoyed whatever it was that just happened. Licking the blood residue from my teeth I pace the room. Thoughts of her flood my brain. How pretty she would look cut open, begging for me as she lies between my thighs. My name carved into her chest and laid bare for me.

A throbbing I tend to ignore takes hold, a need that I don’t usually satiate begs me to, and I can feel my hands reaching to release myself. Gripping at my cock and squeezing, forcing precum to the tip. It doesn’t take long, my needs having never been met since landing in Hell. The image of her on my bed, begging and touching her own wet cunt is enough to send ribbons of cum all over the floor. Another mess to clean, another thing to be guilty of.

~

I find I cannot look at her, she’s covered my mark well and it’s infuriating. Again she isn’t looking at me, leaving me desperate and appalled at said desperation. Every fiber of my being wants to corner her and take her, destroy her. The images of debauchery won’t leave my mind. Sitting at the dining table? What if I just threw everything to the side and took her while everyone watched? Alone in the hall? I can take her against the wall, make her scream my name.

I look down to see the claw marks on the dining table and everyone but Salem watching me, though she does have an amused smile on her face. Pulling my claws from the wood I try a cheery smile, one to reassure them that I am not in fact losing my mind and control. Her eyes flick towards, a hand brushing the hair from the shoulder that bares what I’ve done to her, and while no one else can see it I can. I know what’s underneath the layers of makeup and she knows it too. She’s toying with me.

[eldritchcryptiddeer]

Part 6:

TW- Slight murder

She stares, eyes never wavering as she meets mine. If anything the more I look the more she seems to strive to appear confident, unphased by my aura. Having rearranged our seating the night before, she sat beside me now.

“You didn’t have to move everyone around for your sick fancy” she mumbles, tearing her eyes from mine to rest them on her dinner, the dinner I had prepared.

“I hope everyone is enjoying the meal, I took quite a bit of time to prepare it” smiles, polite, pleasant smiles that mean nothing, that's all I get from her. My eyes flash with annoyance at the others chorus their thanks, their adoration of my food as all she does is nibble and deny she is hungry. Tension grows thick, even the ever oblivious Charlie takes note of Salem's refusal to acknowledge my sacrifice.

“Ah toots?” Angel's interruption only furthers my annoyance, can he not see that I am trying to get you to see me? She grins at him and I can feel my anger bubbling. How dare she?

“Yes Angel? I just ate a big lunch not too long ago that’s all” she reassures him without waiting for an answer as his eyes dart back and forth between me and her, warning her, or trying to. Yet she stays purposefully obtuse, refusing to even meet my eyes again. I crave to dig my claws into the back of her skull and force her to look, to stare me in my eyes again and thank me for the effort I keep putting in. The work I do for this hotel, for her!

“Alastor?” A chorus of voices say my name in fear, realizing that I’ve lost a bit of control. My shadow has smashed Salem's plate upon the floor, and her eyes never straying from the now empty table seem to only further anger him. Her tongue presses to her cheek, pushing it out as she sighs.

“This is why I don’t want to fucking talk to you” she shoves away from the table and stomps off, my heart faltering, banging at my chest to follow her. I scold my shadow, forcing it to behave once more as it throws its hands in exasperation.

“Apologies, it seems my shadow has developed a bad habit” I attempt to soothe the others before me but they just look between each other, Vaggie even looks mildly triumphant at my outburst. No one spoke, afraid to invoke my rage I am sure. I had done nothing but prove what Salem seemed to believe, what Vaggie believed, Hell maybe what they all believed. Even Charlie deep down must see me as a monster too involved with myself.

“Alastor…you’ve never” Charlie pauses, as if thinking her words over, something I did not see our princess do often “your shadow has never had an issue like that before. Is something wrong?” Vaggie tries to silence her, whispering about how it isn’t their business and to let me dig my own, second grave.

“No dear, just have a lot with the hotel. I am sure you understand that?” She nodded but didn’t seem convinced and looked as if she wanted to press. A hand on her shoulder from Vaggie and a tap from Husk had her falling silent, casting her eyes away from me.

Clenching my jaw I stand, tapping my cane in a silent goodbye as I walk out. My mind is clustered with her; her scent, her movements, her ever watching eyes, and her words ‘this is why I don’t want to fucking talk to you’. It had stung, deeper than it should have, it shouldn’t have touched me at all. Salem isn’t the first to not want to talk to me.

I press my back against the wall outside my room, not wanting to be in the woods or around the dying flowers or unmade bed that I had discarded when I couldn’t settle the night before. Perhaps my radio tower would be a better space for me right now, untouched by these frivolous feelings.

Making my way to the tower I keep pushing my thoughts away, refusing to even give them a smidge of attention. How ridiculous they were, insisting my heart grows warm for her. No, no I simply need her for the growth, for my own freedom. Her rejections meant my inability to win even a simple doe over, was I losing my touch? Was being at this forsaken hotel toying with my powers?

The door of the radio tower falls shut behind me, slamming against its frame with a loud thwump. Everything is so perfect, pristine here that I settle quickly. The scent of the muddy waters fill the room, a soft breeze trickling in, it’s almost like I have my own person bayou beneath my feet without the actual mud.

Then it’s there-

Honeysuckle trickles in again, my hands curling into fists and slamming onto the audio board. Why is this following me? Taunting me? She isn’t even near me! She’s never been here! How can her scent overwhelm me so much in a space that is supposed to be mine?

Knobs get turned, the radio on the desk jolting to life. It’s an early broadcast, and likely a late one as well. Working through the jazz, the blues, and even tossing in some newer music the night ticks on. I have pages of notes scattered before me yet they say nothing of importance. I have failed to focus on my duties, neglected my promises, and wrote her name over and over. Like a mantra, a prayer, I even speak her name into the air of my radio station. Was I always this desperate?

~

The broadcast ended right before breakfast, a delightful squealing of a pig signing me off. I hadn’t planned to get dirty but Salem had stayed on my mind and I needed a release. The poor unfortunate soul walking beneath my safety proved a perfect target.

He had begged like I might change my mind even as I tore into his chest, ripping his beating heart from beneath cracking bones. Every intestine was twirled around my long claws and dropped into my mouth, every bone cracked and licked clean, his skin hung like a flag from my window as I devoured the rest of his insides. The perfect ending to a Hellish broadcast.

~

The looks of some of the residents once I came down the stairs suggested they may have been awoken by my delightful morning murder. Salem never even lifts their head, keeping their nose in a book, hand twisting a pen around as they try to ignore me. How long could they last?

Sitting in the chair beside them, crossing a leg over my knee and resting my cane on their chair, I too pulled forth a book to read. The occasional uncomfortable rustling coming from her, she may cover her feelings well but I know people, sinners, better than any can hide. Eventually I hear a sigh, my eyes flick to her as she shoves the book into her now vacant chair and leaves me sitting alone. Yet again she seems to think she can just walk away. Her hair bobs up and down as she holds her head high to leave me.

~

Lunch and dinner go the same way, she is forced to sit beside me every time, and every time she barely picks at her before walking off to shut herself away. What must I do to get her to follow me, pledge herself to me.

I corner Angel after dinner, desperation that I hate leaking into my words as I all but beg him for some way to get to Salem.

“Quit bein’ creepy” he said rolling his eyes “she ain’t some pet to collar- you know nothing about who you are chasin’ and you might not like findin’ out who she is” his arms crossed over his chest and belly area, nonchalance coats his posture and once again I wonder if I am losing my touch by staying here. He pushes past me before giving one last glance back “Salem is a wild animal Alastor, she might even top that scary aura you got goin’ on” then he’s around the corner of the hall and out of sight. What on earth did he mean? Salem was barely waist height on me, scary? Something to outdo even me? What a funny thought.

Roaming through the hotel I find myself once again at the observatory, watching her from behind glass. Taking in every side step and swirl, the notes that fall from her pretty lips, did she have to wear that? Her mid thigh skirt hikes up as she spins making my throat go dry. It’s quite unpleasant for a woman like her to be dressed in such a manner.

I once again find myself sliding through the shadows into the room she occupies, grabbing her hand and waist and spinning with her. The songs drift in and out as her eyes stay on mine, the want to flee evident but she doesn’t, she clings to me as we dance. Hours tick by and as the night turns to dawn I pull back with a great reluctance. Would she avoid me again tomorrow.

“Please…” I swallow hard “please stop avoiding me” she fidgets with her thin tank top and sighs.

“You’re such a menace, I despise you, hate you. Then you do this, you step in like a proper gentleman instead of the narcissistic twit you are and go making me think your any sort of good” she starts to pace, the sun glinting in her eyes, making them look almost golden, her beauty draws me in and I almost miss what she says next. “You cannot demand my attention, you cannot force me to do anything” static bounces around, fear glistening in her eyes but I simply leave.

Narcissistic twit, a name I had often called my father in my head was now being spat at me. Had I fallen so low? There’s nowhere for me to go; my room is a mess of nightmares, my radio station covered in her scent even after my kill, and if I sit anywhere in the hotel someone will find me, question me.

The shadows drag me down into the dark where I stay, for how long I’ve no idea. I couldn’t bring myself to come out and once I did no one seemed to care that I had been gone. Maybe only a few minutes had passed and that’s why no one knew?

“Alastor!” Charlie bounds up to me as I step into the kitchen, laughter trickles in from the dining room “will you be joining for dinner?” I was gone at least the full day then.

“Why of course darling, why would I not?” She gives me a puzzled glance.

“Well…it’s been a week since you have” a record scratch cuts through the air, silencing everyone. A week?

[eldritchcryptiddeer]

Part 5:

The morning after my little drink escapade was less than uneventful, everyone had some thing or another to do, leaving me alone in the hotel. The night before had been a mistake, it had allowed too many bad memories and nightmares to take hold of my mind and the liquor had hazed my brain too much to fight it. Sleep had never fully enveloped me, I had been hanging on a precipice of dread through the hours, rising when the alcohol had finally wore off to clean up and become pristine again. My smile had never fallen past a tight lipped twist of my lips, and I had no intention of letting it have a chance to slip.

With the hotel empty I pace the lobby, utilizing the lack of other people to really imagine and think of what this place could be. The power I could hold with it under my watch.

Tick, tick, tick- my cane and the clock on the mantel tap in rhythmic harmony as I go back and forth. I already had Charlie where I needed her, Vaggie could prove a problem with her innate distrust of me, Angel would fall in line soon enough since it was clear he was more of a follower than anything. Then there was her, Salem. The meek little doe that tainted my thoughts, that ravaged my mind despite the few words spoken between us, despite my lack of knowing her story, she tore at me. Her absence had driven me down a path I had never wanted, turning to a drink instead of using my brain to find a way to get what I want.

My claws skim over the top of my cane, leaving light indents along the top of it. Her confused, pained face from our last interaction had me itching to comfort her, hold her and tell her I would do everything to sort any issue she may have and I despised it. Why her? It must be physiological, something the body is demanding that the brain isn’t. The touch of her had lingered for a few days, like she had spoken a curse over me to make me feel.

Her scent still lingered in the hotel, a deep smell of honeysuckle, if I close my eyes I can see the gardens. The sprawling roses intertwined with climbing honeysuckle, the bayou lapping at the shore, wind shifting through trees and I crave it.

Unwillingly I find myself traversing the halls, lingering in spots the honeysuckle seems to coat more heavily. Following it back into the observatory we danced in so long ago, the scent strongest here, as if her whole life centered around this room.

My fingers trail along the phonograph, odd that someone so young prefers something so old. Images of her dancing, moving across the floor like a spirit, flits in my mind. I wish to hold her again, to keep her hands in mine as we move through this Hell.

A wave of honeysuckle rolls over me, alerting me that she’s near. They must have come back sooner that I had anticipated, or perhaps I had taken longer than I thought in her space.

Melting into the shadows, I stay, wanting to watch as she comes in with a smile. She speaks to Angel as she begins to play music, a soft gentle opera tune. My heart gathers speed, her voice a shot of adrenaline.

“Ya know toots, smileys gotta have it bad for ya” I will have to do something about that pesky fucking spider.

“Nah he’s so pent up” she waves a hand, dismissing the spider's teasing words as Angel continues to spit out how I have looked for her at every meal and how my eyes linger on her during activities. She looks at him, eyes narrowed and brows brought together.

“Really? Me?” A look of confusion, disgust, then defeat crosses her features before that simple, polite smile returns. Disgust for me? Do I really elicit just such a feeling in her? “Not me Angel…I’m nothing. A nobody. No, he probably just wants to know where everyone is at all times. He’s horribly controlling”

Angel chuckles in response, nodding slightly. Her voice flits through the air as she jokes about how atrocious I am, a demon in its entirety, a truly disgusting being; and it hurts. Pain I have never felt before finds its way into my chest as I leave, seeking the solace of my room. Flowers that had once been a beautiful present, a profession of love and friendship from likely our dear Charlie, now spill rotting leaves onto my table.

Honeysuckle snakes up the trees at the forefront of my still broken memory, the shredded bayou that I find solace and nightmares in. A stinging sensation bites at my eyes and the lump in my throat suggests tears but I’ve not cried since I was a baby. No tears had fallen from my eyes since before even my father lay his hands on me. No, no I will not cry over words.

Of course I’m vile! I’m The Radio Demon! The protector of this hotel, of that ungrateful little doe downstairs. Does she forget that I am more powerful than anyone within these walls? That I am more than her tiny mind can comprehend? And how dare that slut of a spider agree and laugh along? I would have to teach them both a lesson in manners.

But how? Without ticking off Charlie how do I go about showing those two I am not to be trifled with? Bring their nightmares to life? Their bodies racked with fear as the night drags on with my images filling their minds? A laugh bubbles from my chest, the threat of tears gone. What had I even been tempted to cry over!?

I kneel beside the honeysuckle, pulling its roots and all from the dirt. I would not have this scent in my room if she was not attached to it. Flower after flower, I rip the earth to shreds, leaving their fragile orange and yellow petals to sink in the water. What a waste of time spent on her, even if it’s time I had to spare I could, and should, have done something else. Not following her scent like a love sick dog.

More flowers are torn from the ground, no longer just the honeysuckle but the roses, the violets, even the ferns meet a demise at my hands. I can have nothing delicate, nothing beautiful lest I hurt it, destroy it. Even when I only touch once, things rot from the inside. Falling to dust like they’ve aged out of existence in seconds.

If only I could do it to myself.

I brush the thought, fighting the dread, the uncomfortable feeling of being not enough yet again. Why do I want to be enough for her? She’s just a patron, a misguided being seeking a soul she can never have back from someone she doesn’t even know! What a naive little doe.

That must be it, yes. I only wish for her to be my prey, to put her life in my hands and trust me with every crevice of her being. To be in control of her. Charlie is already under my thumb, and in turn Vaggie. I need her brightness, her shining beacon of light, so I can lure in more like her.

To feed on that soft, unmarred flesh would be a meal for royalty. My claws bite into my own hand, blood slipping between my fingers, dripping to the floor. I need time or I may just rip that little thing to shreds when I see her again.

I catch a glimpse of myself in the long mirror upon my wardrobe; my ears are upright, antlers grow to a large state, anger burning in my eyes, I am a fearful sight and that’s all I’ve ever wanted to be. So why does it not please me? Why do I wish to be less in this moment?

[eldritchcryptiddeer]

A server I’m in that’s super cool, they’re trying to reach a thousand and they’re soooo close 💜💜

[eldritchcryptiddeer]

Home part 4:

TW: mentions of abuse, SA, and drinking

I grapple with the feeling in my chest, a sort of burning. Salem had been absent the past week, clearly avoiding me. She didn’t attend any meals, the observatory was always quiet, hell her untrained abilities hadn’t even invaded my radios!

Tugging at my hair, small tufts coming away, I sigh and slam my hand upon the table I’m sitting at. What a ridiculous way to feel over a stupid, little demon. Despising the persistent wriggling of her on my mind I reach for the decanter of amber liquid, ignoring the glass and drinking straight from the source. A soft buzz beginning as I make my way through the bottle.

Drinking was a casual thing for me, an act of normalcy to maintain some sense of humanity. Not that I needed it, no. No it was simply a way to stay connected to who I once was.

The liquor running through my veins has left me blurry, a soft static where music should be. The bottle now lay empty upon the table as I summon forth another. How long had it been since I drank like this? As a boy I had sworn to never drink lest I wind up a mean, evil man like my father but I became that without the help of alcohol.

Mother was never a drinker, I muse over far away memories. How she always swore it was for the weak minded and sorrowful men while bustling about to clean up the mess my father would have made the night before. Sporting bruises way too often as she cleaned, she’d always speak them away with soft lies, but I knew. I had heard her far too many nights pleading for him to stop, that he’d kill her if he kept going and then the soft sobs as he would grunt and groan, his anger turning into a sexual fervor. How mother never got pregnant again I will never know, he was on her most nights like a dog.

Returning to the present I count the bottles, three? No four. What a mess. I stagger to my feet and hold myself up with the edge of the table, mind still flicking between here and there, unable to inhabit one place in time.

Mama had been kind when father had first started hitting me. She had bound every wound and kissed every forming bruise. I had stepped between them as he had gone to lash at her, his belt wrapped around his fist as he brought it down. The pain didn’t even register at first, and then it felt like fire. I could feel the blood from the cut on my cheek slipping down, only for a moment before another hit connected.

Father beat me half to death that night, all his anger and inability, taken out on fifteen year old me. He never hit mama though, not then anyway. He still took her to their room, leaving me bleeding and unable to move while their headboard hit the wall over and over, sounding eerily similar to his fists. The only difference was mamas tears, instead of worry and pleading tears they sounded like tears of pain, her cries for him to be gentle reaching my ears that I desperately had tried to cover in my broken state.

When I awoke the next morning I had been placed in bed, mama surely. It wasn’t long before she had come back in, a slightly limp to her step as she tended to me, telling me at least he wouldn’t be back that night since he was going out with his friends. Friends that stank as much as he did, friends that when invited over would get to have their way with mama too.

The chair I’m clinging to cracks beneath my fingers, wood piercing my flesh, dragging me back to reality. I was no better than the man who made me. My anger, my hunger, always needing satiated. I want others to fear me!

Throwing the chair against the wall I slump against the bed, ears ringing from the silence I can’t stand but no matter how I try nothing begins to play. No soft jazz to soothe my aching head and no static to quiet the constant toss into the past.

My back against the side of the bed and my head resting upon the top of the duvet, eyes plastered to the ceiling, my smile still painfully poised; everything seemed to be mocking me. Taunting me to lose myself.

I remember why I don’t get drunk~

[eldritchcryptiddeer]

The anon button is not for hate. The anon button is for horny and embarrassed about it.

[eldritchcryptiddeer]

[eldritchcryptiddeer]

AdamXReader fic

Adam was the first man and you were determined to get in his good graces as a new winner. You had been nothing but a saint on earth, even avoided sins of the flesh, and you were certain it gave you a leg up. However he was always surrounded by those pesky angels in their imp like masks. It wasn’t very heavenly of them to be dressing so vulgar.

From the beginning of your arrival in heaven you have been throwing yourself at Adam’s feet, elegantly of course, you were always poised and never had a hair out of place. Something Adam should have been drawn to and yet he always had his eyes on that filthy little toy of his.

Other winners seemed less than fond of your dream man, but he was necessary to your success. Yes heaven was the ultimate goal, but a heaven spent with him? What more could you ever ask for? You deserve this after all your hard work on earth, this should be your prize.

Cornering one of the impish angels you insisted that they take you to Adam, but they just kept that bizarre smiling mask on and never said a word. Whatever, you would do what was needed to get to him. You discarded the angel and adorned her attire, making sure you appeared almost identical to the poor thing.

Meetings with Adam were held frequently and it was no issue attending in your disguise. No one questioned that you stood a little taller or that your hips seemed a bit wider, not even his main angel. You stood in silence, listening to his routine speech of how they would pummel the sinners in the extermination to come. A part of you felt ill, what did he mean? Then again, if Adam says it is necessary then surely it isn’t causing any real harm. And they are only sinners after all.

Afterwards you hunt him down, like a stalking lion about to capture its prey. It was almost too easy the way you slid up beside him and started to talk, ushering his side angel away. The man was pompous, it was clear to see why Lilith and Eve had left but surely under that facade of his was a gentle, caring man.

So you work it from him, constantly slithering into conversations and passing Lute out. He could do better than some fighter angel- he couldn’t possibly want someone who came home smelling like blood and death. No this was a man of great renown! Of power!

“Adam” you pur out his name, fingers making soft circles on the back of his hand, pulling his attention from Lute once again. Her glare is obvious, she’s jealous and that makes you oddly even happier to be winning. “I was thinking- dinner tonight? On the edge of the clouds?” Your voice is wispy, a soft hum to the chorus that always sounded.

He nodded sipping his drink and smashing fries in his mouth, a little uncouth but he is the first man after all, perhaps he just needs taught manners.

“Lute can come too” he speaks with his mouth full, your tight lipped smile straining at the edges as Lute giggles claiming she would love that. Her eyes are hot on your face, she’s clearly winning this part of the game and that is simply unacceptable.

“I was hoping it could be just us..?” You're forcing a soft, sensual tone in hopes of making him want more. Perhaps sin would entice the man to come to you, to be yours. It had Lilith and Eve so perhaps you’re simply using the wrong technique. His eyes shoot to yours, a giddy look in them.

“Yea yea that sounds great I know this private area” he speaks through a mouth full of food still, sipping his drink only to shove more food in his mouth. You have him excited now though, and Lute out of the mix. So what if you played into a certain sin? You already made it into heaven, they can’t kick you out right?

~

The meet up is coming closer and closer but time feels much slower. You clip on a pearl necklace and adjust your hair to be perfectly curled before sliding on a soft, knee length, white tea dress. The choice between nude pumps and white flats is a hard one but you decide as the clock ticks closer to the time to go that flats are best. Give him the impression of being much taller, don’t damage his manhood.

A knock at your door tells you he’s here, of course he hasn’t put on anything nice, he’s Adam. His reputation is nice enough. You link your arm with his as he texts nonstop, eyes seemingly glued to the small portable device in front of him. But, again, he’s the first man, he gets more leeway, he just needs to be taught.

You show him how to choose the right fork and how to lay the napkin proper while he rolls his eyes and scoffs.

“You’re not my dad,” he says in annoyance. You nod, stepping away and letting him once again just shovel food down his throat while you politely smile and eat calmly. He simply isn’t used to this.

After dinner he insists on a private location. A spot all to yourselves with no interruption and you agree to a nice park with red roses, his eyes narrowing. You clearly weren’t understanding him despite his efforts to get you to.

You lead him through the gardens, his eyes occasionally straying towards a flower and lingering. Genuine smile stretching his face wide. You had succeeded in giving him a night to remember and it hadn’t even come down to a carnal sin! Once done with the garden he took your hand, willingly and gently he strokes your palm as you both walk towards the winners houses.

“I usually don’t spend a lot of time with others beyond Lute” he sighs out, staring up at the ever changing colorful clouds. You nod in understanding, knowing you’re succeeding in getting him away from her. His laugh fills the air, leaving a warm pit in your belly, a swell of pride in your chest. You had made the first man laugh!

“Yes well this can happen more often” you press him gently, anxious for an agreement as he begins to nod his head when his phone buzzes and the genuine smile seems to fade. He flips the phone open and sighs.

“You know, I think these should be an ordeal more often” he sounds thoughtful as he flips his phone shut, never responding to the message he had gotten. Contentment bubbles inside you as you both go separate ways for the night.

[eldritchcryptiddeer]

TW: noncon, drowning

My eyes lingered over the rather risqué outfit you had chosen to wear. You’re shorts riding up between your thighs makes my cock throb. How easily I could decimate that flimsy material. You’ve been taunting me all day; constantly pulling the bottom of them back down, laughing about how your thighs keep rolling the material, squirming when you think no one is watching so you can feel the seam on your cunt.

My mind falls back to the present as you speak about taking a bath and retiring for the night. Shadows swirl around me, enveloping me and whisking me away to your room where I remain in the shadows, waiting ever so patiently for you.

The click of your door opening and closing rings in my ears as you drop your shorts and strip your tank top off as soon as you’re in the ‘safety’ of your room. There’s nothing beneath those thin layers, you didn’t even have the decency to wear panties.

As you begin to run your bath, a tune falls from your lips as you sing and sway your hips. I can feel my cock already pressing against my pants, straining to get to you. Pulling my buckle of my belt and buttons of my pants I release myself, palming the base in anticipation.

You go to bend to turn off the water and I materialize behind you, grabbing a fistful of your hair. You’re immediate screams drive me to shove your face into the water, your gorgeous hair floating around like tentacles, bubbles floating to the surface as you silence your scream and try to not inhale the water.

I shove my cock in your glistening cunt, your wetness a pleasant surprise, your waterlogged howl music to my ears. Each thrust has more bubbles floating to the surface as I force my full length in over and over, occasionally snatching your head up to allow for a gasp of air before burying it back in the cooling bath. The slaps of your hips on the side of the tub have me sealing release faster than I thought possible, my cock twitching and throbbing as you clench around me.

“Come on, just a little longer. You’re taking it so well, good petite biche” with the end of my sentence I drag myself from you and ram back inside, my cum filling every crevice of your womb and dripping around my cock.

Pulling you from the depths of the water, I stare in delight, your soft sputters keeping me hard as I force you onto your knees.

“The whole thing darling” I say, grabbing your cheeks to force your mouth open, working my cock into your unwilling mouth. Tears spill down your puffed out cheeks and I use a finger to catch them before they drop to the floor, licking them from my claws to satiate my thirst. I keep my eyes on yours. The horror and lust behind fear fueling me to pump my cock into your wet depths even harder. Muffled cries echo in the bathroom, bouncing off the tub and walls like a symphony just for me.

My seed fills your mouth and I pull out “swallow” I command you, watching as you lick up the small dribble and swallow everything, eyes locked in mine. A small puddle of your juices, my cum, and blood sits beneath your kneeling body, leaving me wanting even more. To ravage you until you’re unnoticeable.

“You will never speak of this” I whisper in your ear, tucking my cock away as I lift you up, waiting for the nod I know I’ll receive “good girl”

I move you to the counter, getting on my knees before you and staring up. Gently I grab your knees, forcing your legs to fall apart. My eyes take in the beautiful sight of your dripping cunt, parted lips, and moist eyes. Tongue flitting between my teeth I bring my mouth to your clit, earning a hiss of pleasure from you. Hungrily I drink you in, gathering every bit of you on my tongue before swallowing and going back for more. Your moans send shivers down my back.

Your own claws find my back as your head tilts back, bumping the mirror behind you. I can feel you bucking your hips into my face as I drive my tongue deep within, caressing every crevice. My thumb circles your clit as I devour your insides, forcing a loud squeak from you before you clench down, your own release coating my tongue.

Once done, once I’ve cleaned you up and rerun your bath, I straighten myself out. My eyes take in your shaking, wide eyed, form with a pang of minor guilt but I shove it aside and issue a warning “never wear anything like what you did today again”

[eldritchcryptiddeer]

TW: contains sexual intercourse

Her hands rest upon my chest, eyes wide as they stare straight ahead, avoiding my own. My claws tangle into her hair for a just a moment, the weight of her body on mine a comfort I had not known I needed. Then all too quickly she was standing, apologizing for running into me and pushing me down. I want to tell her to not apologize, that she had started a small flame ages ago and her touch satiated it just a little bit but my voice seems to be stuck, my mouth refusing to do anything more than smile as I too stand.

She seems uncomfortable, like my lack of words meant she was in danger and I beg my fingers to reach for her, for my lips to beg for her to stay and join me as I was already heading to me room. We could read a book, or listen to music, whatever she wanted but no- no my brain will not allow me to speak.

Static crackles in the air and she takes a step back, eyes widening more than I thought possible. Please just say something, speak you fool!

“It is really no issue my dear” the static dies down a little as I finally speak “it was” I stop can I tell her I enjoyed it? That it would be on my mind for days to come? Maybe if I force it all out in one go “it was enjoyed, in fact would you mind accompanying me to my room for some tea?” See that wasn’t so hard was it? Wait-

Her face contorts into a polite, absent smile. The same smile I’ve seen her give those she’s pretending with. Don’t pretend with me I silently plead as she nods her head in agreement, holding her arm out for me to take and lead her. My arm winds with hers as I snake through the hotel, eventually reaching the deep red door of my room. The only indication it is mine is the microphone key Charlie had made me that I took from my pocket, her smile seems genuine for just a moment as she sees the key.

Unlocking my door and pushing it open, I lead her in, conjuring up a pretty white and maroon tea set with gold filigree along the top of the cups and teapot. She takes a seat, my velvet chairs devouring her small frame as she brings her fingers to the handle of one of the teacups. I hear her say that it’s a beautiful set, the prettiest she has seen in quite some time. Nodding I gather my small selection of tea; lavender lemon, blueberry sage, and raspberry. Her soft voice speaks with an almost musical tone as she chooses the blueberry sage, a loose leaf option that blossoms once in the water. It makes a nice plop sound as I set the ball of tea into the pot and tell her in a few minutes she should take a peak.

I gather up a book, not wanting to seem as if I have brought her here for dubious reasons. Do I wish she would let me touch her? Find all the soft spots, scars, and curves she hides beneath those baggy clothes? Absolutely but I will do no such thing until she craves it as much as I do.

My name left her lips, my head snapping towards her at an almost painful speed. She stands right beside me, her hands tangled together as she seems to be chewing her words, deciding what to say carefully. I try to give a reassuring look but fear it comes off as intimidating, a look that screams be quiet instead of please let me hear that gorgeous voice of yours say my name again.

Fidgeting she says she’d like to try something, that she wants to explore a feeling, a want that she fears is a death sentence. I nod, curious as she moves closer, my own dead heart feeling like it’s fluttering with each step until she is right before me. Centimeters barely separating us, her hands seek out my chest, placing them like they had been when we fell. She gave a soft sigh and moved her hands up to my shoulders, standing on tiptoe to keep some form of height equality though she still barely met my collar bone with the top of her head. I bring my nose down and smell, taking care to be quiet as the scent of honeysuckle invades my nose.

Her big, chocolate eyes turn upward, staring at me through long lashes. Words fall from her lips but I seem to have gone deaf, my ears just keep ringing as I nod my head and she tugs my shirt to bring me closer. Our lips meet, soft and questioning turns into a burning want, a desire for a deeper taste. My teeth tear at her lip, eliciting gasps from her as I suck up the little drops of blood. She tastes even better than she smells-

Fingers quickly pull buttons open and slide my shirt off, my jacket and bow tie discarded on the chair. She moves as if she’s done this before. My stomach drops, has she done this before? I move to stop her but can’t find the ability to do so. I’m entranced with every move she makes as every scar is smoothed over, every puckered spot of flesh given the softest kiss. She hovers over the top of my pants and brings herself back up to standing position, asking if I am ok, if I want this. I nod, words still seemingly stuck in my throat as I cautiously reach for her, catching a bit of her dress in my claws.

She offers to take it off and I whisper a faint ‘please’ that seems to leave her breathless as she pulls the yellow sundress up and over her head to reveal soft, supple breasts and her matching yellow underwear. Reaching again I stop short, fearing if I touch her she’ll disappear until she grabs my hand and places it on her shoulder, waiting for me to make the next move.

Slowly I drag my palm down towards her breast, exploring the squishy flesh and fondling her nipple. Her breathing grows a little heavy, cheeks going flush, as I twist and tease before moving my hand to the other one and repeating the cycle. Her thighs keep tensing, pressing together and rubbing. I slide my hand down again, pressing against the fat of her belly, enjoying the warmth and softness, every curve is a new territory to explore that I intend to know all of. Tracing her sides using both hands she squirms, movement underneath my palms making heat race to places I hadn’t been fully aware of until now.

Once I’ve covered every soft roll, every scar, every pocket of flesh with my palms I find my hands at her hips, a question in her eyes that mirrors mine. She brings her own hands to mine, encouraging me to strip the last bit of fabric on her perfect body. With a swift swipe of my claws and the spreading of her legs they fall to the floor, leaving her entirely exposed for me.

Her own claws grasp at me, working on my belt with shaky breaths, constantly checking that I want to continue. How sweet of her to make sure I’m alright when she’s the one before a powerful overlord. My voice seems to make a come back as I encourage her with soft, almost pleading words to continue.

My pants and underwear are left behind as we move to sit on the edge of my bed, a few inches between us. My face doesn’t betray the burning embarrassment of being exposed, or the fire growing within my stomach. Her hands dance over my thighs, making their way up to my cock, sending tendrils of warmth through my body. As her works my length it feels like electricity has been injected into my veins, her words coaching me through and still asking if she can go on. My neck bends back, exposing my throat, my eyes closing. I prop myself on my elbows, the ecstasy building and building, her gentle fingers massaging the base, working their way up, clawing my tip and pushing into the slit before working down again, dragging fluid from me and using it to moisten my cock.

Before too long I can feel a strong sensation, one that overtakes my whole body as I tense up to feel her mouth cover me. My cum flooding her mouth as my hips stutter and push me further into the moistness of her throat.

With a giggle she lifts her head, tongue darting out to gobble up the small dribble of cum on her chin.

What a truly beautiful sight.

My chest rises and falls quickly with heavy breaths as she brings her glistening lips to mine, allowing me to taste myself on her. The salty, watery flavor mixing with her natural sweetness is overwhelming. She floods my senses; every part of me is her. I can only see her, her gasps and moans fill my ears, honeysuckle invades my nose, and she’s setting me ablaze with every touch. Her wet cunt lingers over my still throbbing cock, she lowers herself slowly, grunts of pain coming from her pretty, puffed out lips as she takes my whole length, eyes rolling into the back of her head. The sensation of being taken renders me useless, my whole body feels slack as I fully fall against the bed. Her hips moving up and down, pussy clenching around me, has pleas of want dripping from my tongue. How could someone so small, so minor, make me so brainless?

Her trills of pleasure drag me back down to Hell as she finds her own release, forcing me through yet another orgasm. She falls against my chest, breathing hard, eyes closed as she comes down. I find my claws laced in her hair as she drifts in and out of sleep, my cock still inside her warm walls.